


Breaking X - The X Files v Breaking Bad: Purity

by glee



Category: Breaking Bad, The X-Files
Genre: Drugs, Gen, Horror, No Sex, Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glee/pseuds/glee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully try to solve a grueling mystery in Albuquerque, but what mystery's greater than the identity of Heisenberg himself? Read on in this crossover that takes place anytime in X-Files continuity, and sometime before Hank's eureka moment in Breaking Bad season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Purity 1

  
**Breaking X**  - The X Files v Breaking Bad #1:

_Purity (Part 1)_

_-_

 

A vampire.

_Click._

Ronald Reagan.

_Click._

A zombie.

_Click._

Batman.

_Click._

These were the subjects, and Ellie was the host, dressed pink and red in her blood-spattered princess get-up.

Another zombie.

_Click._

A witch.

_Click._

Twin aliens.

_Click._

"Hey, no way are you taking photos!" shouted one alien.

"It's my party," Ellie shouted back. "Why not?"

"Are they online?" asked the other.

"I'm not that fuckin' stupid," Ellie reminded the pair, before turning away from the lounge to inspect the kitchen. She passed through the hallway of zoned out cartoon characters and murderers, taking more photos with her phone. No-one seemed to notice, nor mind. Ellie was beginning to feel like a ghost in her home.

A mad doctor.

_Click._

A robot.

_Click._

Ellie was now in the kitchen, where the lights were off but people were most certainly  _on_ , dancing in a huddle to the dubstep from the lounge. Only one person seemed to notice her, a guy in a Guy Fawkes mask, coming towards her.

"I heard you got some Blue Sky in here," said the weedy looking Guy.

"Who am I talking to?" Ellie asked after taking a shot of Mr. Anonymous. He lifted up his mask, revealing a black man with a dazed look on his face.

"Got no idea who the fuck you are."

"Call me an interested customer." Anonymous tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "How much you got left? And how much?"

"You mean, you wanna buy, right?"

"I heard you sold some to another dude?"

"My brother's friend, right. But you can be anyone,  _dude_."

"So you don't wanna do business, princess?" Another grimace. "Call me Jay, anyway."

Ellie pulled the mask back down across Jay's face. "Meet me in the outhouse in ten. Can you do that, Jay?"

"Now what do you mean by that?"

"You seem pretty fucked."

"That a crime?"

"It's why I'm trusting you. But if I don't see you in ten, then don't bother me the fuck again, OK _Jay_?"

Elie exited the kitchen with this warning, and made her way through the lounge again, trying to get to the backyard through a mass of legs belonging to semi-conscious bodies. It was another warm Albuquerque night, with cicadas ringing out their loudest from the weeds and bushes of the yard, and over the fence that kept whatever was happening in her home from others in the suburb. The oak trees played their part too, with the biggest holding up Ellie's treehouse to the starry sky.

_Click._

She had to take a photo, the way the treehouse looked so gothic on Halloween night.

Devils.

 _Click_.

Evil twins.

 _Click_.

Ellie lowered her phone as she noticed the zombies and twins were staring back at her with grave concern. Looking around, she realised almost everyone was on their feet, when earlier they'd been sitting or dozing on the weeds. She'd been a ghost then too, passing unnoticed, whereas now all eyes were on her, like a herd of hungry zombies sensing meat.

"Guys?"

The monsters and demons slowly stepped backwards, unbunching as a mob to reveal the policeman standing firmly in the centre of the yard.

"Miss, I'm gonna need a little of your time," declared the officer to his audience. He'd come through the backdoor, where Ellie could see a patrol car parked outside the yard.

" _Shit_."

Ellie turned on her heels with a swish of her pom-pom skirt.

"We have your friend here," called out the officer. "Donnie. He's in load of trouble and I'm gonna need you to help him out a little."

Ellie froze.

"Donnie?" Her brother's friend.

"He's in the car, waiting."

Ellie turned around, and sized up the tall stranger in her garden. Was it a Halloween prank? There was nothing familiar about his tanned skin or small middle-aged paunch. His eyes were buried beneath the darkest shades.

"Don't make me arrest you for resisting an officer's request, ma'am."

The revelers kept their eyes on Ellie, their lips sealed and poses frozen. They were sitting ducks in the arm of the law.

"And don't make me bust everyone for this party you're all having tonight, either."

Ellie looked up at the treehouse, then back down to the ground. She had no choice, walking the officer's way with her eyes on the floor.

"What do you need me for exactly?"

"It's better we talk about it in the car, miss." As the pair walked out of the backyard, the officer too looked at the treehouse, seeing a masked man clamber cat-like up its kiddy ladder.

"Donnie..?" Ellie could see the teen boy in the back of the patrol car, playing nervously with his gorilla mask. "Oh, shit."

As the officer opened the door up for the front side passenger seat, Ellie could see Donnie had been crying.

"D, what the fuck?" she asked, getting inside.

"I'm sorry Elz," mumbled the boy, as his arresting officer slipped in beside Ellie, shutting the door so the car was free of the party dubstep, but full of static from the intercom.

"We found him coming from your house with a bag of meth, Ellie." The officer motioned to the empty seat next to Donnie's backpack - a small bag of blue familiar to Ellie was out in the open, ripped apart and half empty. "Tested it, and that's pretty pure stuff."

Ellie kept her stare on the bag, too angry to look at Donnie, to guilty to look at the cop.

"I'm s-sorry," Donnie repeated.

"I'm guessing you sold it to him, Ellie?"

Ellie said nothing.

"But we can make this go away if you can tell me who you bought it from..?"

"I'm not a dealer," whispered Ellie.

"You don't look like one. Just a popular girl wanting to impress, right?" the officer teased in his drawl. "You musta been planning this for months, right? Perhaps you bought this two months back? Maybe more?"

Ellie stayed silent. Donnie covered his face with his gorilla paws, and groaned.

"You gonna speak to me or not, Ellie?"

Ellie sighed, and turned around to face the front window screen. She surveyed the dashboard, the intercom. Cop cars were a familiar sight from her tearaway days of running away.

"I'll speak to my dad first to get a lawyer. He's in China right now but-"

"We're gonna need you to speak now though, girl."

 _Clunk_. The doors locked. Ellie gasped.

"Wait, is this for -" Before she could finish the sentence, Ellie felt a needle jab her straight in the leg.

"That's gonna relax you," claimed the cop. "Then you're gonna tell me who you bought this fucking blue from -"

Ellie looked down at the emptied syringe. "I don't - I don't know his name!" she yelled.

"Was it someone from the memorial park?"

"Man, w-what are you doing?" Donnie cried from behind.

"Answer me, Ellie -"

"It was, it was, yeah..."

"But no-one sells there anymore, right? So I'm gonna need a name to find this guy. Or a face."

"He was - he was wearing a red scarf on his mouth. With shades." Ellie was breathless. Her vision was blurred.

"But all those boys wore scarf and shades. Did you get his number, a name?"

"No…"

"Just relax, Ellie. What I gave you's gonna help you remember. You just need to relax..."

 _Do you remember his voice by any chance?_  The question had come from the intercom.  _His height? Big man, or little man?_  continued a scratchy, heartless voice.

"Ugh.."

"Stay with me, Ellie," said the officer, trying to be equally as heartless.

The girl closed her eyes, and felt for the syringe in her leg.

"Fuck you," she spat, jabbing the syringe into the man's neck as much as she could with the fading strength in her arm.

"Fuck- fucking-"

Donnie rolled down his window, and yelled for help. Ellie punched the cop in the crotch, before taking the keys from the ignition.

 _Bleep_.

Opening the door, Ellie sprinted back to the yard.

"Ellie-  _wait_!" Donnie yelled, but to no avail. Ellie was already clambering up the ladder to the treehouse, her footing unsteady as she climbed in ballet pumps.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck." Looking down for help, but seeing only blur, Ellie soon saw the backyard had already been vacated in the cop's aftermath. Music still boomed nonetheless, with a small crowd gathering around the back door of the house. She couldn't see him, but Jay was watching the scene, wondering if anyone was going to help as he kept his Anonymous mask firmly over his features.

"Help!" Donnie yelled. He'd freed himself from the car, running as fast as his round frame and gorilla feet could handle towards the back of the house, before getting pounced on by the supposed cop.

"Ellie, don't make it more difficult!" yelled the cop to the skies. Blood was pouring down his neck and onto Donnie's black curls.

It was too late - Ellie had reached the house with an awkward tumble, and was soon scurrying on her knees, searching in the dark with her phone for guidance.

"Where is it, where is it…" she said between heavy panting.

When Ellie found her handgun, she began dialling a 9 with her free hand, then a 1, then paused.

_If real cops come, you're gonna be bust for dealing, fuckwit._

She dropped the phone, and looked around in the dark for help. She could only see shadow and blur.

"Get the fuck down here if you're smart!" begged the cop, who was on his own patrolling the bottom of the twisted oak tree. Donnie was watching, handcuffed and eating dirt, too scared to watch.

"Be smart, Ellie, be fucking smart-"

A shot rang out from the treehouse, sending the cop fleeing back to Donnie's patch in the weeds.

"Oh shit, I told you to be smart..!" To Donnie's ears, there was a real fear in the man's voice, and when he looked up he noticed the cop rubbing the side of his bloodied neck anxiously. "Fucking be smart, girl…"

The music in the house stopped. All guests scrammed from the back door to flee the house, bar one. Only Jay was left standing, trying to see what was happening in the treehouse.

"Oh, shit-" He watched as Ellie fell from the tree top. That was Jay's cue to run.

"Oh, fuck…" The cop stood ground, then changed his mind quickly as Ellie began crawling towards him and the kid.

" _Ugh_ ,  _ugh_." Ellie's moans were deep and hiccup-like. She was choking as she crawled on all fours towards Donnie, eating dirt of her own as her pom pom skirt brushed through the weeds. The boy could only see her red hair, trailing along the grass, but he could imagine her racked face, and the very real blood all over the fake stuff on her pink lycra top.

"She got shot," he mumbled, looking around for help. "What the fuck is-"

"He-  _help_ ," Ellie spat, groaning, too pained to lift her head.

"No no no," moaned the cop, beginning to drag Donnie by his heels, heading back towards the way of the patrol car.

" _Ugh_." Ellie gave up the ghost a few feet away from Donnie's face. To his horror, there wasn't blood on her face, but matter.

"Wha-" the boy exclaimed, as he felt himself being lifted up from the ground. His eyes couldn't tear away from the scene though, as he watched a thick white mass come oozing out of the girl's mouth. Her eyes were red, forehead violet, but everything below was being caked by an afterbirth of white matter, thick and slick.

It would be the last time he saw Ellie, before being bundled into the back of a white van. He was alone in the dark as the cop sat himself up in the front carriage, shouting to the four winds as the van careered out of the suburb.

Donnie could only see red numbers in the darkness, red digits that quivered like candle flame with the rapid motion of the vehicle:

 **99.1** , they read.


	2. Purity (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One dead body, and a load of meth: Mulder & Scully come to Albuquerque, and meet Hank Schrader.

  
**Breaking X**  - The X Files v Breaking Bad #1:  **Purity** (Part 2)

 

-

 

Fox Mulder was looking at a photo of the treehouse he was standing in.

 _Swipe_.

The preceding photo was of a pair of evil twins.

 _Swipe_.

The agent was looking at a pack of girl and boy devils.

 _Swipe_.

Mulder went through each photo on the phone meticulously, checking and re-checking, before placing the device back where he’d found it surrounded by white patches, little pools dried in dribs and drabs that led to the door of the treehouse. Three window-sized spaces let the light in along with the small entrance, a morning light that illuminatined the morose dark of the agent's suit and hair.

“Nearly cracked it, Agent Fox,” claimed the technician who was working on the safe to the back of the cabin-like structure, beavering away below an opening full of leaves that let in the sun, but blocked all view of the streets to the back of the yard. Mulder ignored this man, and paced towards the opening, where upon he rubbed his thumb over a bullet embedded in the wood.

 _Pfft_.

The safe door had come undone.

“Well that was a waste of time,” the technician mumbled, rising to his feet.

Mulder ignored the man again, and walked to where two walls met on one side of the room, a corner taken up by a cardboard box.

“Safe's completely empty, Agent Fox,” the technician continued, as Mulder rummaged in the box on both knees. “Don’t see why you’re looking in there, we found jack.”

Mulder took out one chubby toy bee from the box, and shook it. Spare bullets came tumbling out onto the floor with this action.

“Those were in there?” asked the safecracker, surprised. "Woah."

Mulder turned the bee round to show a large rip down its back.

“There’s enough space in here to hide a handgun, wouldn't you say?”

Mulder stood up and dropped the bee, wandering over to the opening with the bullet.

“Maybe the drugs are in one of them toys, Agent Fox..?”

Mulder looked out through the leaves and branches on the other side of the main opening.

“Maybe,” he murmured, and with an outstretched arm, pulled apart a few of the branches. A decommisioned beehive hung from string for all to see.

The technician was startled. “You’re not gonna touch that, are ya?”

Mulder tugged on the string, and smiled as the hive inched a litte closer. He looked up and noticed the makeshift pulley attached from the top of the hive to the treehouse.

“You could say I know my bees,” Mulder joked, tugging on the pulley until the hive reached the veryntip of his nose.

“Wait..,”

Mulder didn't listen, and pulled down on the beehive, showing that although it wasn't dangerous, it was neither empty, for only bags of blue and white filled out its insides.

“...Bingo,” continued the technician, awed.

 

#

 

Mulder was halfway down the ladder as he heard his name being called out from below.

“Good detective work there, FBI,” continued a bald man in shades, stood below his feet . Mulder could see the man was handling some of the haul from the beehive - a small bag, full of blue crystals.

“I’m Hank Schrader, DEA,” smiled the man, reaching out a hand to help down Mulder.

“Fox Mulder,” he replied, getting down.

“A pretty good find you got us here, Agent,” beamed Schrader, holding up the bag. “That’s a real heavyweight contender she was beekeeping.”

Mulder looked over at his partner Dana Scully, who was bent over the dead body of the young woman in the yard, then back towards the short, stocky DEA man, as stood in the weeds.

“I’m guessing it’s not food colouring then, if the DEA’s interested?”

“They're calling it _blue sky_. Biggest meth type in the whole New Mexico area. We got traces all over this Ellie girl's house, along with blow, K, you name it. She was packin' quite a haul.”

Mulder took out his sunglasses. “Anything special about this blue sky stuff?” he asked, putting on the shades.

“Ol’ Bureau doesn’t know about blue sky yet, huh? Guess we won’t be asking for Feds for help after all, ain’t that right guys? Ha ha!” Schrader chuckled, trying to catch the attention of the officers working in the weeds and the trees around the square. “You know, Agent Mulder," Schrader e continued, quieting down suddenly, "we’ve been trying to find the source of this shit for months. It’s the purest meth out there. Just come out of nowhere suddenly. You ask me, this uh, dead _party girl_ you see over here..? She must have really loved her friends to get a cop of this stuff.”

Mulder looked again at Ellie's body, watching as Scully inspected the legs, feeling with gloved hands her thighs and ankles.

“You don’t think Ellie was in the trade, making a profit out of her treehouse?” asked Mulder, in thought.

Schrader didn’t even have to think about it. “Look, you maybe don’t know about this in D.C., but I’ve seen this sorta thing a million times Agent Mulder. Rich kid puts on a party. Searches out his sources to get the good stuff. Starts thinking he’s Scarface when he realises how much money he can get back off what he’s lost. These kind of kids - they ain’t smart enough to be in the trade.” Hank nodded over towards the body. “They don’t wind up falling outta tree houses, high as a skunk.”

“Could you actually sell any blue sky if your head's in the sky, Agent Schrader..?”

The DEA man took a look back towards the two level house, where more agents were rummaging within the lounge area, masks and glass around their feet.

“You know, some of these kids we busted were saying she was taking, or sayin' she wasn’t taking. What do we know..? They were all high - It was Halloween, Trick or Treat..! _Do the Mash_..!”

Mulder looked to the weeds around his own feet. “But witnesses said there was a police officer or imposter, standing right about where we are now, trying to coax down the victim..?”

“They were high, Agent Mulder. Off their nut and seeing all sorts of shit.”

“Maybe, but somebody _was_ driving that cop car over there. And some people were lucid enough to pose for the girl’s party photos all night.” Mulder looked up towards the tree house. “But still, saying the assailant was standing down here, why would she have fired one shot into the back of the treehouse?”

Schrader chuckled. “‘Cause she was high..? She was scared..? She was inexperienced with her own handgun..? I dunno! Hell, we don’t even know if she even fired the gun in the first place!” Schrader took out his phone. “Look, with all due respect Agent Mulder, this is DEA business,” he said, checking for messages quickly before putting the phone back into his jacket. “Someone didn’t want to pay, and thought it would be easy to rob the White Girl playing Dealer. We then bust the party, and try to find the supplier. So you’re gonna have to tell me why the Feds are all the way out here in sunny Albuquerque doing a job we can do ourselves just fine?”

Mulder met eyes with Scully, who was wandering over to join him.

“It doesn’t make sense, Mulder,” Scully said aloud, snapping off the plastic  gloves from her hands. “Even if she had been taking some kind of brain-abusing narcotic, the impact of the fall wouldn’t have hollowed out her head so easily.”

“What about the white matter around her face?” asked Mulder.

“We’ll need to do tests,” replied Scully. “She may have been having a fit that started out in the treehouse, which would suggest it’s dried up foaming from the mouth.”

“So you have no diagnosis yet, uh, Agent, err, Scully is it, right?” Hank asked, taking off his shades. “No possible causes?”

“Nothing yet, not until I can carry out an official autopsy.”

“But you don’t think she just, er, fell and, er, I dunno, _cracked her noggin_ , Agent Scully?” said Schrader, shrugging with a toothy grin across his face, looking across the yard for reception.

Not one to be patronised, Scully bristled in a way only Mulder could notice. “As I just explained Agent Schrader, it’s more complicated than a simple tumble and fall. But if she had been having a fit, it would explain the stray firing of the bullet. Still, that may be too simple an explanation for cause of death.”

“That’s why we’re all the way down in the sunshine,” began Mulder. “Your counterparts at the El Paso Intelligence Centre have seen this kind of thing more than once.”

Mulder reached into his jacket, and began showing the DEA agent a collection of postcard sized photos.

“These were why we were called in for our particular brand of...expertise.”

The photos were of dark-skinned corpses with their heads to the ground, faces covered in white crust. Schrader recoiled.

“When were these taken?” he asked.

“Over the last couple of years,” Mulder replied. “Men and women dead from seeming blows to the head.”

“Cartel?

“Many of the victims remain anonymous,” explained Scully. “But the ones known to El Paso were cartel affiliates.”

“And they all had this white gunk on their face?”

“Yes, but that’s the only similarity with Ellie Sander’s case here,” said Scully, taking one of Mulder’s photos for another inspection.

“There was no rhyme or reason regarding any of the earlier victims,” Mulder explained. “They weren’t usually found in the gang hotspots, but homes, fields. Random attacks, carried out without cartel efficiency.”

“I'm guessing they weren't found at any house parties, either."

Mulder nodded, and put back the photos in his jacket.

"Would you say any of the guests you've taken in were more lucid than the others, Agent Schrader?"

_


End file.
